Senses
by Rigel99
Summary: The mind of Hannibal Lecter explores his developing relationship with Will Graham through his senses. Prequel to "Empathy for the Devil." With red-blooded appreciation to Bryan Fuller and his amazing writers for gifting these characters to the world. "This is your design."
1. Chapter 1

Ophthalmoception.

Or, in layman's terms, the sense of sight.

What constitutes a sense remains, and will continue to remain a matter of debate for some time. There are challenges inherent in determining what exactly is a distinct sense, and where the boundary between responses to related stimuli rests. Personally, I have always believed the senses cannot be compartmentalised so easily. Of course, for the purposes of scientific discourse, it is necessary to do so, lest we remain trapped in the Dark Ages. For the application of the scientific method to be effectively applied, the constituent parts of any object under observation and scrutiny must be disassembled, analysed and defined in order to make sense of how the greater whole operates. At least, this is the application of orthodox scientific method.

I, however, operate outside the confines of orthodoxy. Which is just as well. When faced with the wholly unorthodox specimen that is Will Graham.

Rarely have I found myself so intrigued by another individual.

Our first encounter left me more than intrigued in fact. He stirred in me a renewed sense of curiosity in the human condition, so unique an individual I suspected he might be.

"You don't do eye contact, do you?"

His response immediately revealed the intensely empathic nature with which he was burdened. In that moment, I realised what a fascinating challenge Will Graham presented to the inquisitive mind. To my mind.

He had created an almost impenetrable bubble of existence with which he shielded his senses, as much as he could so as not to be overwhelmed by the world he so silently and carefully traversed in solitude. Almost.

In the moment we laid eyes on each other, the gauntlet, so to speak, had been laid down.

Will Graham.

I found myself looking forward to further encounters with such a fascinating specimen.


	2. Chapter 2

_Audioception._

 _Or, in layman's terms, the sense of hearing._

My next encounter with Will Graham was equally as enlightening. Or at least, it was an encounter that made the second most striking impression. I found myself listening more intently than usual to the voice of another. Usually, the sound of those whom I find myself in the company of, rarely extends beyond anything more interesting to me than that of white noise.

 _"This copycat is an avid reader of Freddie Lounds and Tattlecrime. He had intimate knowledge of Garrett Jacob Hobbs's murders, motives, patterns enough to recreate them and, arguably, elevate them to art."_

As I listened closely, I noted my enthusiasm for understanding the component parts that made Will Graham "tick", for want of a better word, mildly increased. I maintained a sense of cool detachment to the rising keenness within, driving my impulses to understand how those parts fit together in such a seamless manner as to permit the intense portrayal to the outside world of this broken soul standing before me.

 _"How intimately did he know Garrett Jacob Hobbs? Did he appreciate him from afar or did he engage him? Did he ingratiate himself into Hobbs's life? Did Hobbs know his copycat as he was known?"_

In truth, Will Graham's expression of self was merely a facet of his impeccable mirroring of the world around him. How broken and chaotic was the world in which we found ourselves a part of, but truly, from which we remained apart. The other more interesting facets that went to constitute Will Graham, remained buried deep beneath the façade. For the present time at least. Such facets were only obvious to one such as myself, acutely attuned to the nuances of body language, the rise and fall in tone of voice, the smell emanating from another, imperceptible to those who operate within the "normal" spectrum of existence.

 _"Before Garrett Jacob Hobbs murdered his wife and attempted to do the same to his daughter, he received an untraceable call."_

I began to recognise the cocoon of safety in which Will Graham wrapped his mind and soul had its weak spots. Perhaps these weak spots could be penetrated by qualities only someone such as myself had to offer.

 _"I believe the as-yet unidentified caller was our copycat killer."_

I found myself indulging in a rare thing for a man of my self control and well-defined sense of centred-calm. I smiled.

I felt the limbic animal within me rouse for the briefest of moments before I lulled it back to peaceful slumber.

I see you, Mr Graham. I hear you the unmistakeable darkness in your voice. I thrill and fear in the knowledge that you and I will come to understand each other better than we understand ourselves…


	3. Chapter 3

_Gustation._

 _Or in layman's terms, the sense of taste._

Sense of taste is not to be confused with that of flavour, which is a combination of taste and smell. Within the sense of taste, the general concensus agrees on 5 distinctions: sweet, bitter, sour, salty and umami. For myself of course, the range is much more extensive, the evolution of palate a continuous journey of discovery I have willingly undertaken since the salvation I discovered in my first sample of human flesh.

It was only through many years of self discipline I came to appreciate one could identify each of these distinctions through simple sensation, as though the taste squirmed on the palate in an attempt to escape its pending demise, lost to the body of its devourer.

I can imagine the presence of Will Graham on my palate would set it aflame in ways I could only contemplate in the room in my mind palace I had now especially reserved for him and him alone. His nature, one could unerringly, if somewhat romantically (not that I could ever be accused of suffering such a whimsical affliction) define as sweet, yet it would be edged with a bitterness of having to suffer this interpretation of his empathy. The sour taste would flair as it hit the back of the palate, an instinctive reaction to the mingling of the sweet with the bitter, only to be overpowered by the salty essence of the tears and sweat in which he undeniably drowns every night in restless slumber. That final taste would be as yet elusive, uniquely his own, distinct from the recombination of the others, borne out of a re-imagined, reshaped, redefined Will Graham.

The first meal we shared was a simple affair. Scrambled eggs. I wished to ease him gently into my world. His body as well as his mind was in need of careful and considerate nurturing were they to reach their full potential. As I watched him devour the plate of food I had lovingly prepared - as I do all my food - for us, I allowed myself the warmth that accompanied the beginnings of the conquest on which I had set my long-term sights. I imagined that he was consuming and tasting the texture of his unformed, incomplete self, devouring it enthusiastically and in doing so, paving the way for the rebirth of his true self.

I knew I could look forward to many meals shared with Will Graham, each one reflecting the complexity of our unfolding relationship.

The anticipation was so tangible I could taste it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Olfaction._

 _Or in layman's terms, the sense of smell._

There are hundreds of olfactory receptors, each binding to a particular molecular feature. Specific receptors exist for specific odours. Interestingly, it could be argued that the sense of smell has made the most significant contribution to positioning Homo sapiens at the top of the food chain and yet, it is the one sense on which Homo sapiens have come to depend on to a progressively lessening degree as evolution marches onwards at its breathtakingly slow pace.

Of course, I myself being more than human, recognised the benefits of a keenly nurtured sense of smell. I have come to rely on its honesty when betraying the intentions of another. No matter how hard one tries to mask their true nature, it is impossible to control and contain the body's chemical reactions.

I have inhaled and experienced nearly every emotional response. The fear radiating from the pores of my meals before I relieve them of their soulful burden; the trepidation of the new patient, unsure what to expect from our sessions; the lust of lesser animals unwittingly drawn to the power I keep so carefully leashed within. Every emotion is catalogued and filed, as familiar to me as the less complex smells of fine wines and lente porc cuit.

It took me some time to suppress the waves of nausea to which I would be subject when faced with patients, male and female, who lacked the comprehension that less is, in fact, more when it comes to the application of bottled fragrance, and to separate the sometimes repugnant chemical concoctions from the underlying scent. Despite his own attempts to mask his singular olfaction with his ridiculous aftershave, Will Graham projected an impossibly - dare I allow myself to think it - intoxicating aroma.

Over the course of our developing relationship, I would catalogue the changes in his scent, subtle though they were, with interest. He possessed the most fascinating emotional biochemistry. It would take a measure of conscious control not to noticeably inhale when within his immediate proximity. At first, overwhelmingly, the scent of cortisol dominated his aura, but over time, and each time we met, the distinct odour of norepinephrine would present itself more often and in greater density. I have little doubt my tender ministrations on his fragile psyche led to his homeostatis. I rarely feel pride in my accomplishments with my patients, given it is nothing more than fulfilling that part of my vocation, but where Will Graham is concerned, I am prepared to allow the indulgence.

Because if anyone in this world is to bring about _districtia_ in Will Graham, it will be me. How I chose to do this, only time will tell.


	5. Chapter 5

_Somatosensation._

 _Or, in layman's terms, the sense of touch._

I had never considered myself a particularly tactile being, unless circumstances unavoidably demanded I be so.

To my elevated and dispassionate sensibilities, skin was nothing more than the sheath which overlay some of my most succulent and delectable culinary achievements.

But as I stand here, motionless, taking in the beauty of what Will and I bore together this night, my limbic animal rouses with a vengeance. I realise with stunning clarity that this moment is all I have ever wanted for him, for both of us. I have never before harboured such an all-consuming desire to share my experiences with any other being as much as I have with Will Graham. Standing on the edge of everything, I find myself wanting to share so much more. I want to seal forever this bond that has been forged, on the night we slayed the Dragon, while simultaneously, setting free the demons that had plagued the cages of his tortured mind for so long. Free at last, to realise their true potential to paint the world in fire and blood, making it as beautiful as he himself was.

In the moment he reaches for me, I find myself allowing - no, welcoming - the contact and the rush of pleasure that accompanies it. I feel the varying degrees of response from my pressure-receptors as he lightly glides his hand up my arm, the brush of his fingers across my chest causing the hair on the back my neck to rise in response. I find myself relishing the sustained, almost painful hold as he grips my shoulder, while attempting to steady his buckling body from what I imagine is a mixture of the awe and pleasure, which is coursing through my body also, experienced from the sight of what we have created together only moments before.

His touch is like fire on my skin, igniting all my senses at once and as I gaze down at my newly risen phoenix, newly risen from the flames of the Dragon's belly, I know there is nothing in this world that can stand against us…


End file.
